Tea Leaves and Creamer Don't Mix
by Vetinacio
Summary: Arthur Kirkland moved to the States to get away from it all. But now, a whole new problem has been shoved into his face: his new boss just became his new neighbor. And worst of all? He's Alfred F. Jones. -DISCONTINUED-
1. Prolouge

**Okay, so this is our first fanfic! Obviously it's Hetalia (which we don't own, by the way). Updates will be weekly. This is just the prologue, but I hope you enjoy it and it makes you want to read the story (which is AWESOME, I promise). This is pretty vague, don't worry, we know. But if you'll stick with it, everything will be explained (another promise).

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Alfred sighed, looking around his new apartment. His bright blue eyes sparkled with excitement at being in a brand new city, and having a new, and much better, job. Although Seattle wasn't like his old home in Montana -there certainly weren't any farms around here- he knew that it wouldn't take him long to adjust. His main concern was going into work tomorrow.

At the thought of work, Alfred sighed once again. Even though he sounded like a child, he was worried about the other people liking him there. Whatever happened tomorrow would most likely set his reputation in place. He was so far away from home, and it was too late to just go back if things went wrong -not that he _would _leave. No, he wouldn't allow himself to leave. Not after all his hard work to get this promotion.

Alfred looked at his watch, noticed he was running a bit behind schedule, and grabbed his briefcase, running out of the room, a smile spread wide across his face.

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A high-pitched beep rang out from the little alarm sitting on the antique end table, echoing off the sparsely decorated walls, waking the cranky Englishman in the bed nearby. Irritated green eyes peeked out from underneath the covers, squinting at the bright sunlight that seeped through the cracks in the blinds. A hand snaked its way out from the blankets to slam against the snooze button.

"Ugh!" Arthur groaned, throwing the comforter back over his head, knowing and trying not to go back to sleep if he wanted to catch the 8 o' clock bus to work. With a small pep talk, and much effort on the Briton's part, he threw the covers off, stretching his arms out tiredly as he headed into the kitchen.

He let out a sigh as he looked at the calendar mounted on the refrigerator door. The date was circled with red ink, notifying him that there would be an important worker coming in today from Montana. But Arthur merely assumed it was just some hick who needed to be shown the ropes of city life, and his new job, Arthur thought, as a fellow file clerk.

"They better not give me any trouble." he muttered to himself, setting his tea pot onto the stove, and letting it boil.

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**Reviews are always appreciated! Thanks.**


	2. In Comes the Git

**A/N: We know it's kinda vague right now, but don't worry! It will be elaborated upon later~ **

"You insufferable git!" Arthur barked, scrubbing furiously at the brown stain on his dress shirt. "Watch where you're going!"

"'Git'"? Alfred repeated. "You'd think that since you guys invented the language, you would know how to speak it, but apparently they don't teach you real English words at those posh boarding schools over there." Alfred didn't mean to snap at him, but so far, things hadn't been going as smoothly as he had hoped, and he was getting more irritated by the second.

Arthur's eye began to twitch, his hand curling into a fist around the ripped, damp napkin. "For your information, you twit, git _is_ a word. But of course," he let out an exasperated sigh, "you're uncultured, poor excuse for a brain wouldn't know that."

He began to wipe at his shirt again, less agitatedly this time, before a finger was jabbed into his forehead. "Whatever you say, Eyebrows." Alfred chuckled, sticking out his tongue in the most immature manner.

Arthur sighed, attempting to keep his temper in check. "Well, as much as I'd love to hang out with you," Alfred said sarcastically. "I have important stuff to be doing. Cheerio gov'na," Alfred said in a horrible British accent that made Arthur want to punch the living daylights out of him.

"Damn American..." he muttered under his breath, "spills his coffee on my new shirt, mocks me on his first day here..." and then he added much louder, so that the retreating, bespectacled blonde could hear, "And besides, tea is much better than this smelly _coffee_."

Alfred turned back around and went back over to Arthur, who was now attempting to pick up the papers Alfred had made him drop. "You know, you really shouldn't leave important papers lying around. Something might happen to them, such as, oh, I don't know...a coffee spill?" The younger man said it nonchalantly, but he couldn't hide the mischievous glint in his eye.

Before Arthur could react, Alfred tipped his coffee cup jut enough for some of the hot liquid to splatter on the papers. And while Arthur just stared at him in shock, Alfred walked around the corner with the same smirk. It wasn't until he was a little ways away that he began to rethink what he did.

_Maybe that was going a little too far..._ He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. _Okay, that was a little uncalled for. I should probably go back and apologize. This is not the first impression that I want to make._

Arthur was just about ready to kick that intern back to whatever farm he had come from as he examined the sopping, coffee stained documents. He had spent all morning organizing those papers, and signing them off. And the American had not only disorganized them, but now had soiled them as well. But he bit his tongue to hold back the string of curses he was about to unleash upon the younger man and dutifully went to pick up the scattered pieces of useless paper. Humiliated, he got down on his hands and knees, collecting them into a soggy stack, before another waterlogged mess of documents were practically shoved into his face. Green eyes looked up in confusion, quickly turning into irritation, when he realized it was Alfred.

"What do you want now?" he asked, too tired to sound angry.

With another sigh, Alfred replied, "I'm sorry I poured coffee on your papers, and I'm sorry for spilling it on your shirt. I didn't see you coming around the corner, so the shirt was an accident."

"Oh, so you soiled my papers to match my shirt?" Arthur retorted bitterly, snatching the papers out of Alfred's outstretched hand.

"Hey, now I came back here to apologize. I think the least you can do is try _not_ to be too rude, especially since I'm about to be late since I came back here to apologize!" Alfred stood up, glaring slightly.

Arthur balanced the stack of paper into the crook of his arm and stood up, brushing the dust off his slacks. "Well," he raised his chin up high in defiance, "you wouldn't be late if you had just watched where you were going in the first place! And besides, I don't have time for this. Go on, go on to your little meeting, _intern_." he sneered, turning on his heels to return to his cubicle and redo all his papers.

Alfred nearly burst out laughing, but instead smirked, as he replied, "Actually, Eyebrows..." he paused dramatically, "I'm Alfred F. Jones, the new Editor in Chief. And _your_ new boss."

Arthur stopped in his tracks. _Him? The new boss!_ He turned around to say something, but Alfred had already left.


	3. Out Goes His Sanity

"Arthur?"

Said Brit raised his eyes from his paperwork to see Elizaveta holding out a steaming cup of coffee to him. He arched one bushy eyebrow, silently questioning her, before noticing, then angrily eying the drink in her hand. The last thing he wanted to see right now was a damn cup of that caffeinated junk.

"Get that shit away from me."

The Hungarian let out an aggravated sigh, placing the cup safely away from his papers. She knew what had happened, for it hadn't taken long for the story about his accident with the new boss to spread all over the office.

"You need to take that to the editor in chief."

"And why, may I ask, m'lady?" he mocked, not looking up from his papers.

"Because!" she nearly spat in his face, obviously frustrated. "I have to go pry Natalia off of Ivan, and Felicks is on lunch break with Toris."

She prodded an angry finger to his chest, a dangerous glint in her eyes. "Just because you had a little lover's quarrel with him doesn't mean you have to be a jerk to me."

He narrowed his eyes, trying his best to bite his tongue at the 'lover's quarrel' comment and skeptical of the convenient situation, before clicking his pen, and shuffling his papers into a stack. Swiftly grabbing the foam cup-nearly spilling its contents-he headed to the git's office, haughtily huffing at Elizaveta on his way out.

He tried to walk as slow as he could with the hopes that the coffee would grow cold, but when he did finally arrive in front of the office door-it wasn't that far away from his own office-he still reluctantly knocked three times.

"Come in," he heard the voice from inside call. What he saw when he walked in was Alfred standing by his desk, which was covered with a box and miscellaneous office supplies, with his sleeves rolled up and his hair disheveled.

"Oh, it's you Eyebrows. Nice to see you again," he said with just a hint of sarcasm.

"It's _Arthur_, git."

Alfred merely nodded, as he went up to Arthur and grabbed the coffee, grimacing a bit when he took a sip. "It's kinda cold, but thanks for bringing it anyways. I know I must have taken you away from your _busy_ work." Once again, he let just a little bit of sarcasm drip into his voice with his last sentence.

"Well, whose fault is that?" The Englishman retorted, knowing that Alfred could detect every bit of annoyance seeping off his tongue.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, who took the jelly out of your bun?" Alfred laughed, moving back to his desk.

Arthur gritted his teeth, clenching his fist until his knuckles turned a ghostly white. But in the little span of three seconds that he had to conjure a witty reply, all he could come up with was an embarrassed, "_You_, git. You took the jelly out of my goddamn bun."

_Oh, sweet Lord, did I really just say that?_

Alfred just stared at him for a couple of seconds, shocked. Then, he burst out laughing, to the point where he had to hold on to the edge of his desk for support. He pushed his glasses up to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Wow, Eyebrows. I'm not sure how to respond to that. Is that another British thing that my 'uncultured, poor excuse for a brain wouldn't know'?" he asked with an amused smirk on his face.

The shorter man's eye began to twitch yet again, which would've been a scary sight, had he been a scary-looking fellow. He frantically racked his unresponsive brain for an answer. This wanker was an absolute _imbecile_, and his American stupidity was just rubbing off on him; it was not at _all _because he was flustered beyond comprehension.

And in his vain attempt to spare his precious pride the blow-rather than putting out some ludicrous remark that would just mortify him further-he stomped out of that office like a monster out of one of Kiku's silly comics, face redder than Antonio's tomatoes.

When Arthur arrived back in his office Elizaveta was sitting on his desk, waiting for him with a Chesire grin displaying her pearly-white teeth. "So, how did it go?"

"Get out."

"Why? I just want to know." she replied, as if she was innocent.

Arthur wasn't falling for it.

"I said," he hissed, pulling her off the table. "Get. The fuck. _Out." _

Elizaveta rolled her eyes, but didn't struggle. "Fine, fine. I'll just ask his secretary. Felicks will tell me anything I ask, anyway." She smirked, and with a flip of her hair, she was gone.

Arthur sat down at his desk, moved his papers over and proceeded to bang his head against said table multiple times.

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**We're sorry it took so long! We had some technical difficulties. Anyways, school's coming around soon, so chapter updates will probably not be weekly, but we'll try our best!**


	4. ATTENTION READERS

Attention all readers!

Firstly, we'd like to thank any and everyone who has stuck with the story; It truly means a lot to us.

Secondly, we are rewriting the story-and when we say rewrite, we mean a MAJOR rewrite. Setting, plot, jobs-nearly everything will be different. (Of course, at the core will be the lovely US/UK pairing fan-girls everywhere squeal over.)

We promise that the new and improved story will be a thousand times better, both in plot and actual writing, than the old story. So please bear with us as we update slowly but surely. It will be worth it.

Once again, thank you, and we look forward to reading reviews from you all.


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